She's Your Basic Average Girl
by Thomas Linquist
Summary: My entry into Zaratan's latest contest. Kim is the globe trotting hero, but who looks after the clean up from the disasters she stops? Meet Marcella DiAngelo, cheerleader and heroine in her own way.


This is my entry into Zaratan's Cheerleader Challenge. I've opted to work with the relatively unknown character of Marcella. This gives me a lot of leeway in where I can take the story. Kim claims to be an ordinary girl, but just how _real_ is she? Why don't we see what a less sensational girl can do to make the world a better place?

As usual, Marcella and the crowd belong to Disney. I've just "secret borrowed" them for a while.

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**She's Your Basic Average Girl**

Marcella watched as Kim Possible ran out of the gym after Ron Stoppable. Eric was looking after them. He certainly seemed put out, but not about his date running off. After all, there was obviously a need for Kim's unique skills. Ever since Marcella had moved to Middleton and joined the cheer squad, she had seen her captain run off and do the impossible, or at least the improbable. No, Eric seemed more upset that she had listened to the kid on the Kimmunicator (Wade was it?) and gone off to deal with the current disaster.

When the news reports started coming in, Marcella knew that this was more than the strange schemes she'd read about in the papers after Kim came back from this mission or that. The little Diablo toys were morphing and causing major damage. Bonnie and her entourage were raging about the things ruining their favorite hangouts. Marcella watched the businesses that were being destroyed, the homes that were being lost, and the lives put in jeopardy.

She seemed like your average teenage cheerleader on the outside. She dressed in the latest styles, gushed over the same hotties as the other girls. She even followed in Bonnie's wake, just like the others.

In fact, Marcella DiAngelo was far from the image she projected.

When she was ten, her father had been aboard Flight 96 when it went down in the field in Pennsylvania. He had been one of the brave men that had rushed the hijackers on 9/11. Her mother had gone into a deep depression, and had not recovered. When she couldn't care for her daughter anymore, Marcella was placed into foster care in Lowerton. She had bounced around from foster home to foster home, never being in one room for more than two months. Some "homes" had been pigstys. Others had been downright abusive. Through it all, she tried to be the girl that her father had been trying to raise.

Just before her fourteenth birthday, she had been moved one last time, to the home of Victor and Annette Wilson. They had fallen in love with the lovely young girl with the olive complexion and long brown hair. When Annette was promoted to a positon of authority at Middleton First National Bank, they had asked if she would like to be a permanent member of the family. They so wanted her to be their daughter, having no children of their own.

For weeks, Marcella had worried over the question. Vic and Annette had left the decision up to her. She might be a minor, but having to fend for herself in the system for so long had made her more mature than many so called adults. She went to visit her mother, in the long term care facility that she lived in. Mrs. DiAngelo hardly recognized her own daughter. She just stared off into a distant place only she could see, where her husband waited for her. Marcella kissed her mother goodbye, and promised to visit as soon as she could.

The adoption was uncontested. Marcella had a family that supported her, and she took that love and quietly spread it around the community. She volunteered at the local food bank. She was a mentor to a young girl who was currently in foster care, and needed somebody who understood to talk to. After seeing some of the grimier places in life, she now spent her free time, such as it was, helping to pull others out of them. Where there was a need, Marcella DiAngelo was there.

Hearing about the destruction going on in Middleton and around the world, she left the gym. Pulling out her cell phone, she dialed her contact at the Red Cross. The phone rang several times before there was an answer.

"It's me, Marge. There are going to be a lot of people hurting tonight, and for a while to come. Where do you need me?" That's the way it is when you are compelled to do things for others.

"We won't know until the damage and injury reports start coming in. If you are still at the prom, you might talk to Principal Barkin about using the gym as a shelter for a while, and maybe getting a food drive together.. I think a place to stay and something to eat is going to be the most important of the millions of things that will need to be done." In four years of volunteering, Margaret Peel had seen just how quickly Marcella could organize anything that wasn't nailed down. Sometimes she wondered why it was Kim Possible leading the cheer squad and not the lovely young lady that she knew so well. "If you can get that arranged, I think we can get a handle on everything else. The reports say that injuries are at a minimum so far. I'll call you if I need anything else."

Closing down her cell, Marcella went in search of Steve Barkin. She found him in the staff lounge, watching the news reports of the Diablos being deactivated all around the world. The images on the television screen showed the little toys falling from the skies, and being stomped and smashed by small children, while adults cheered and shook their fists in the air.

"Well done, Possible." the large man said quietly. "And you too, Stoppable."

It was then that he noticed the girl standing at the open door of the lounge. He looked over at her and put a very stern expression on his face.

"You did not hear that, Miss DiAngelo. Are we clear on that?"

"Yes sir. I'm proud to know them too sir, but your secret is safe with me." She gave a secretive little smile. She knew all too well just how proud the gruff principal was of Middleton High's two most famous students. Discipline had to be maintained and all that.

"I assume you are here to ask for some help with cleaning up this mess?"

"Yes sir. Priority one is shelter, with food falling a close second. The chair of the local Red Cross was hoping we could use the gym after the dance." Marcella tried to produce a PDP, but the best she could do was genuine concern.

"Very well, recruit anyone you can to clean it up. Left over snacks will be good until we can get Stoppable into the kitchen. It's late, so breakfast will be soon enough." He had already been making up a list of things that would have to be done to turn the school into a temporary haven. The page on his clipboard was just about full of hastily compiled notes.

Marcella knew better than to try getting any help from Bonnie. As the dance went on, she quietly spoke to the other girls from the squad, and word spread around the gym. By the time Kim and Ron had returned, there was a committee set up to clear the party debris and set up the cots that were stored in the basement. The entire football team had volunteered to set up the cots, and the girls were going to greet the families that were expected to fill the space. In fact, once the word got to her, Bonnie even volunteered to get a supply of soap and other toiletries that might be needed. She simply wouldn't be left out.

Kim and Ron walked in, holding hands. After Bonnie laughed and the rest of the crowd cheered, Marcella went to stand where she could see them dancing in the middle of the floor. This had been coming for a long time now. Everyone had seen it but the pair staring into each other's eyes. A small tear ran down her cheek as she watched the newly minted couple kiss for the first time.

"Way to go, Kim. Good work, Ron. We all owe you." Marcella whispered softly.

"They did what they are best at, Miss DiAngelo. Now you are doing what you are best at." Steve Barkin was just behind her left shoulder, carefully ignoring the blatant PDA of Kim and Ron kissing as the song ended. "They may save the world on a daily basis with their missions. You save it one small task at a time. I am very proud to have you here at Middleton High, Marcella."


End file.
